The Baring Gould Theory
by freakypencils
Summary: New Chapter Up! :D Holmes is presumably dead; Watson is alone. He has a run-in with Irene Adler, though. Is he being haunted by Holmes, or is his infamous friend not dead after all? Sherlock Holmes/Irene Adler. R&R!
1. Ch 1 Meeting at Der Backer

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**A/N:** Rather rusty at posting fanfics. Still, worth trying…

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sherlock Holmes or his universe. That would only be a dream of mine.

**Fandom:** Sherlock Holmes

**Couple:** Sherlock Holmes/Irene Adler

**Setting:** Non-canon; sometime after The Adventure of the Final Problem, if you're chronologically accurate and put it after the Hound of the Baskervilles. In short, Holmes is presumed to be dead by Watson.

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It was a rather dismal night in T------. The roads were well-paved with an even blanket of snow.

I dismounted the cab, and having handed my driver a tip before retreating into the warmth of _Der Bäcker_, a small German restaurant in town, bowler hat atop my head.

It had been almost a year since my good friend, Sherlock Holmes, disappeared into the Reichenbach Falls. Albeit devastated, I decided it would not sink in so deep as to keep me from living my personal life, and I soon dealt with it as I did with Mrs. Watson's death. I still took residence in our old bachelor home, and Mrs. Hudson was more than willing to take me in, although my surroundings haunted me constantly still.

Once inside the quiet, if rustic-styled restaurant, I requested for a single seat and, once seated, the menu. As I scanned through the various entries my eye strayed momentarily to another seat.

I leaned over slightly to gain a better view which, sure enough, further proved what I wished to see, and there was no mistaking it – I'd never forgotten a face, and this was the face of Irene Norton.

She didn't change a day after our run-in in Bohemia. Her hair was dark as ever, tied up in a tight bun, her rosy complexion unchanged even under the dim lighting. It was easy to guess why she caught Holmes's attention, if not only for her cunning.

Conversing with her across the table was a rather gangly gentleman, whose graying hair matched his graying handlebar moustache. Curiously he wore both his dark-tinted glasses and top hat indoors. I presumed him to be Godfrey Norton, her husband.

I felt obligated to approach the pair, so I did, abandoning my table. Irene seemed to notice because she smiled as I approached, abruptly stopping the conversation.

"Good evening, Mrs. Norton, Mr. Norton," I greeted her, and offered my hand for them to shake. She took it willingly, whilst Mr. Norton reluctantly shook back with a bony hand.

"Good evening, good sir," she said, and although she happily returned the handshake her expression was very much puzzled. I flushed, realizing I didn't exactly think this through. Instead I gathered all the information I could manage to remember from Bohemia.

"I don't believe we've met," I lied, thanking High Heaven I didn't stumble through my words as I do when I lie. "My name is Dr. John Watson, I attended one of your operas and I must say I became a fan of your work."

"Why, thank you," she sweetly replied. "But you are wrong at implying this man is my husband, as in referring to me as Mrs. Norton. I'm afraid my dear Godfrey succumbed to severe pneumonia."

"I'm terribly, terribly sorry," I stammered, immensely embarrassed. "My condolences, Miss Adler…"

"Please," she said, smiling civilly. "Call me Irene."

"Irene… of course," I said, still flushed. I turned to her companion. "May I know the good gentleman's name?"

Irene's dark eyes glanced over to her escort, who returned the glance before smiling at me through his moustache. "The name is Gottlieb Scherer," he introduced himself with a heavy German accent, tipping his bowler hat.

"_Herr_ Scherer is my violinist and pianist and plays alongside me in my recent tours," Irene explained.

"I apologize for not being aware," I added.

We stood in awkward silence for a while. I observed Mr. Scherer trying to avoid my gaze every time I began to examine him (thinking I recognized him somehow), before Irene broke the silence.

"Perhaps you would like a ticket to one of my shows, Doctor?" Irene inquired.

"Oh…," I said. "I would not want to bother the good lady."

"Please, Doctor," Irene replied. "I would love to have you in my audience. We are performing alongside a few others."

She smiled so amiably, I had no choice but to yield to her invitation, and took the ticket she handed me that night. "Thank you, Miss Ad – er, Irene."

"We really must be going," she said, and gestured for the bill.

"Of course," I said.

A waiter came immediately, and as Irene paid, Mr. Scherer stood up and offered her his arm as they left.

"_Arzt_ Watson." Mr. Scherer nodded. "Pleasure meeting you."

"As you," I replied, and watched them walk to the door, Mr. Scherer opening the door for Irene as they went out. I observed them to be a most intriguing pair, and proceeded to my table, later noticing that the reason that Irene was the only one to pay was that her elusive violinist had not placed an order.


	2. Ch 2 An Encounter Backstage

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**A/N**: Chapter Two. :D I know it's not much of a good one, though…

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would wish to, I don't own Sherlock Holmes or his universe.

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In an attempt to be a gracious "fanatic", as I put it, I attended Miss Irene Adler's concert the following evening. I was late for the entire show; luckily I was quite in time for her number, though. She was an excellent singer; Mr. Scherer, her violinist, equaled her excellence with his instrument. Something in the back of my mind baffled me throughout the show, but I was unable to place the feeling, and I preferred to leave it alone.

I hurried outside to buy a bouquet for Miss Adler after the show, and, battling my way through the tempestuous crowd backstage, I finally reached their dressing room.

Mr. Scherer's was the face to appear after I knocked thrice.

"_Guten Abend_,_ Arzt_ Watson," he said, opening the door just a crack. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"Very much," I agreed, and showed him the flowers.

"Are these for me?" he asked as one of his thin eyebrows rose.

"Er, no," I said. "I meant to give them to Miss Adler. Is she by any chance here?"

"You reached a good time, _Arzt_," he agreed, smiling under his moustache. "I shall give them to her."

"Very well," I said, and gave the bouquet to him.

"I extend her thanks," Mr. Scherer said. "Thank you very much for coming, _Arzt_ Watson."

I smiled at him as he began to close the door, but I noticed something irrevocably familiar with him – I stopped the door with my foot, squinting my eyes to look at him carefully.

Mr. Scherer looked down at the shoe that was keeping him from closing the dressing room. "Your foot, doctor," he said.

I ignored him. "Have we met before?"

He thought for a minute. "No," he simply said. "Now, _Arzt_ Watson, if you would be so kind, please remove your foot from the door."

As soon as I removed my foot he slammed the door so abruptly I was taken aback with the great combination of his rude reply.

"_Well_," I muttered to myself.

Suddenly, the thought from the back of my mind returned, and it all began to come together.

Smiling triumphantly, I turned on my heel and slid through the crowd.


	3. Ch 3 Discovery on Baker Street

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**A/N**: Final Chapter! I do hope this is at least _satisfactory_. :)

**EDIT:**

- Chapter Three edited.

- An epilogue chapter is now up!

**Disclaimer:** Arthur Conan Doyle is genius, so Sherlock Holmes and his universe are always and will forever be his.

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I had little actual hope of meeting either Irene Adler or this "Gottlieb Scherer" any time soon, after my little talk with Mr. "Scherer" the previous night. I was a fool for not noticing it before, but all the clues formed only one reasonable testimonial.

As soon as I woke up, I felt like a walk, almost somehow motivated to look for the vague couple. I immediately dressed, bade Mrs. Hudson a goodbye before bounding out of 221 Baker Street.

I had walked about two miles from the house, and it was in returning when I ran into Miss Adler and the indefinable "Mr. Scherer" again.

"Mr. Watson!" Irene exclaimed, shock apparent in her voice as her arm tightened around Mr. Scherer's. My senses might not have been as sharp as Holmes, but I knew it meant more than just a business companionship.

"Miss Adler," I said, faking an apologetic tone as best as I could. "I'm sorry for startling you, I wasn't aware you were… coming."

"It's quite alright," she said, smiling sincerely. "Thank you for the beautiful flowers last night, by the way."

"Yes, your performance last night was excellent," I commented, and my eyes scanned over Mr. Scherer. "As was… Mr. Scherer's."

"Thank you," said Irene. In a slightly shaken voice, she turned to her companion, "Shall we, Gottlieb?"

"_Arzt_ Watson," Gottlieb said as he tipped his hat to me.

They had walked two steps forward when I spoke again, in whisper. "And when am I allowed to find out that this _Herr_ Scherer of yours is actually the infamous Sherlock Holmes?"

The pair stopped in their tracks.

Scherer, or rather, Holmes, turned to me. "I do not know what you are talking about," he mumbled, his dark eyes flickering throughout his surroundings under the dark-tinted glasses he wore. Then, with a glint in his eyes as they rested on me, he added in a whisper: "… Until we are safely inside 221 Baker Street."

I grinned at him triumphantly, but I knew deep inside me I was very much relieved to determine he wasn't dead after all.

With a smile, Irene positioned herself between Holmes and me, weaving both arms into ours. "Gentlemen," she said. "Shall we?"

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**FIN**


	4. Ch 4 Epilogue

"So, to repeat…," I began, leaning forward in my seat. "Holmes recovered from the fall, but Moriarty didn't... he spent about a week healing himself and at the same time hiding from the Professor's henchmen, and during that period of time you met and began to perform together incognito to the effect that Holmes will be thought dead to be left alone by his enemies, am I correct?"

We were in the living room, doors and windows locked while our landlady toiled in another room, unaware her old tenant, who she and almost everyone else thought dead, was alive and conversing with me. She had brought us tea, completely unaware of the "Mr. Scherer" she had handed a warm cup to and given a polite smile.

"I sincerely apologize for doubting your intelligence, Watson," Holmes said, smiling with his legs crossed as he nonchalantly sat in his old chair.

His disguise was now off, and I saw, for the first time in two years, my partner and best friend, much aged now and his eyes demonstrating rebirth in the face of death. In his gaunt, calloused left hand was a smaller, delicate right one – Irene Adler's, ungloved to reveal a golden ring.

"I had to maintain the notion that I was dead long enough for Moriarty's men to give up their search," he continued, "That knowledge excluded your own knowing, for your protection, of course."

"Well," I said. "I'm rather touched by that gesture."

"Although it's been two years now," Irene chirped in. "I suppose that if Moriarty's men would have given up, it would have been months ago, but Holmes preferred to keep it quiet even as they lost knowledge of him being alive."

"It's only wise," I agreed, and, my eyes flickering to Irene's abdomen. "Especially if a lady is four months in."

Irene blushed a deep red. "I seem to forget you are a physician, dear Dr. Watson," she told me. "It is to the day."

Holmes beamed; I sensed it was an involuntary reaction – and his grip tightened around Irene's hand. "Well," he suggested. "We have much to catch up to."

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**FIN.**

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading, everyone! As of now I can safely say this is my LAST chapter. It took me a little time to decide whether or not I should publish a final chapter, but out of some more personal reasons I decided to give it a go due to the multitude of cliffhangers I offered in the previous chapter… _;

If you can find anything to add to it I'd be very willing to read a continuing fic. It's been fun, although short, writing the fic. Keep on R&R'ing. (Moar power to S.H./I.A.! ^_^)

**Disclaimer:** Sherlock Holmes is the copyright of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. (I've heard it isn't anymore, though)


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